35: Secrets: Ghosts
Ricrot wrapped his own cloak around her shoulders, for which Anuella was grateful. As many years as she had lived in the far north, the Fieg Snowfields were still the coldest of the cold. She was grateful for any sort of warmth, and only part of it was from the garment.
It helped fill the gap Selva had left behind. Years of war, years of struggle, had changed them both, in some ways more than she would believe. She still heard from him often enough; the lilipeas brought her the news he sent to her, news he heard from the birds he spoke to so naturally, in a way even she herself could not understand.
It was ironic, any way one looked at it. She never thought that she might find herself on the side of a Forcenan after all this time. Or even more, that she was falling in love with him.
Lonway led the mages now, the elder brother of Ricrot and heir to Forcena, a nation that had been a conglomeration of states for as long as anyone could remember. The brothers had never agreed on the direction of their country, Ricrot wanting to return closer to the Goddess as Anuella wanted, and Lonway siding with the view of the mages that had once followed Anise, that any Mana available should be grasped and utilized in the name of survival.
The rift between the two was what drove Ricrot to her side. Forcena proper was undoubtedly the center of the kingdom over which they argued. Lonway was the legal heir, but Anuella knew that practically, it made little difference.
The reality was, Forcena had long since been an empire in truth, no matter how it tried to maintain the pretense of equality among its subservient states. The people had called it "Empire" for years already, and Lonway already styled himself "Emperor". A single man, with that much control over the world… it troubled her more than she could say.
Ricrot only teased her when she voiced her concern. "I love it how you use the old names, Anuella. Forcena and Byzel. We have new names, for a new world, and we both have a new home within it."
He was right, whether she liked it or not. They could not pretend things were the same; and her home was with him, now, for better or for worse. They traveled with the fairies, but he was the one she clung to, little else left for her. She had given her mountain school to Akravator long ago, and she and Selva had helped him breed, mix, create the Windcallers that now inhabited it as the Village of the Winds.
There had been a twenty-odd year period of peace since she had destroyed the Wyrm Geimaswald; the thing had been nothing compared to the Wyrm that her own allies had released. Lucemia still haunted her nightmares, a dragon demon-spawn that only was removed from the world because of its own ambition. It had consumed a volcano, burning to ash as the fire burned it from within, destroying every bit of flesh to leave nothing but a charred corpse. Its bones had clattered to the island beneath it, the first series of the Faerie Wars ending along with its unearthly life. But she knew then, as she knew now, that all was not over.
The victory was theirs, but the essential point remained. Mana was increasing, but still scarce, and the world was still populated by those who craved it.
It was why the Jumi had disappeared. She felt like she owed Lady Blackpearl an apology on behalf of the world. Anuella fingered a medallion around her neck, a parting gift from Blackpearl, and a token of their agreement and shared goals. She could only assume the Jumi woman was still alive; all she heard was rumors of Jumi gathering, heading somewhere where the wars could not touch them.
As things had turned out, it had been too much to hope for that the departure of the Jumi would have ended the wars for good. Humans fought on, now devoid of the healing powers of those angels they had chosen to hunt, the carnage ever increasing. In any case, the Jumi were now thankfully isolated, left to maintain the memories of the goddess, as they were always meant to.
It pained her that the Jumi had been lost to the world, at the very time the world might have needed them, their love, the love of the Goddess, the most. If she had her way, she would have made Blackpearl the Wisdom of the Moon, brought her into being part of those who were shaping the future without the Goddess for better or for worse.
The Jumi should have been a part of that, but… the world thought otherwise.
They had indeed been angels, angels of healing, and the world had driven them away along with any other vestige of the Goddess. They had forgotten Her, lost only in their fears of what might be, nothing of hope. That era was over, as was the era where the Jumi had been known as the race of friendship.
Once, the act of becoming Jumi had been a form of heroism, something to be admired, both the search for that sliver of the Goddess and the ability to survive Her transformation powerful experiences for the recipient. Now… few sought to become Jumi, when the race was called "dirt" and almost universally reviled.
All their energy, all the Mana expended, to revive others… it had cost, even more so as the hunting began, and they weakened further as they revived each other from their cores, again and again. Mana was still scarce, and it took all the Jumi had to keep the race alive. They no longer healed anyone other than their own, and the world denigrated them for it.
That was the way it was, in this day and age. The Tree, the Goddess, was nothing but a ghost… and She could do nothing to help any of them. As helpless as Anuella herself, once the most powerful woman in the world, now entirely unable to stop the things she herself had helped set in motion.
She had little motivation anymore. Now, she no longer led, she merely followed. "Where to next?" she asked her companion.
"South," Ricrot replied. "Towards the desert. There are reports of the mages gathering there, not far from Mindas."
Mindas. A name Anuella had not heard in some time. There was only one reason why Lonway might choose that spot. "There might still be enough magic for him to enter the land of the fairies through the tower there," she told him, her voice quavering. Lucemia had destroyed most of the towers the mages had constructed in its rampage, but the tower at Mindas, now known as the Tower of the Winds, was one that had resisted complete destruction. The gateway there was simply too powerful, and if that was Lonway's goal…
"Since when has magic been something that scared you away?" Ricrot asked, teasingly, and Anuella wished she could absorb some of his confidence. It might help to wipe out the feeling of dread within her.
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It was nothing but a slim strand of land, visible in the distance, that linked Mindas to the desert of Navarre.
Navarre as a kingdom, or something like it, was gone, having assimilated into the rest of the world and disappearing into the proverbial sands of time. The land, however, remained, unchanged, the sweltering desert trailing down to the sea.
Anuella walked that border now, both metaphorically and literally. To her right, the desolate sands, and to the left, the calm blue waters of the ocean. Behind her, some distance to the north, the suffering kingdom of Rolante, and to the south, before her…
She knew Lonway and the mages were somewhere there, and that was what she was brooding over.
A splash in the waters pulled her from her brooding thoughts. She turned to the rollicking waves, from which emerged… a giant turtle. " 'Ello, young'un," the creature said in a friendly manner.
Anuella flinched in surprise. "Who are you? Where did you come from?" she blurted out, momentarily losing her ordinary composure.
"Well, to the first…" the turtle replied, "I come from beyond the sea."
"Which sea?"
"Why… any of them. All of them. Wherever the Goddess takes me."
Suddenly Anuella felt it, that vague sense of Mana, connection to the Goddess. She had a little of it herself, but nothing like this… turtle? It was a creature of the Goddess herself, she knew.
"Who are you?" she repeated, shakily, once again.
"Do names really matter?" the turtle asked, cocking its head once again. "I've had all sorts of names over the years. The sillier, the better, as far as I'm concerned." It sighed. "Might as well pick one at random. Tote. How's that?"
"Good as any, I suppose," agreed Anuella.
"You asked why am here?" the turtle responded. Anuella nodded slightly. "I am here to become one of the Wisdoms."
Anuella was… surprised, to say the least. No one had ever approached her on this subject quite so abruptly. "A Wisdom?" she repeated not sure what else to say.
"Of Water, I think. That's still open, right?" Tote looked back at the ocean behind him (or her). "And as for why… because water is one of those fundamental elements of mixed chaos and order, and it demands someone close to the Goddess, who understands these truths. Like the dragon who guards the Water Stone. Do you disagree?"
That sudden, penetrating insight into Mana was something she heard from few individuals nowadays – human, or otherwise. This turtle - She could find no fault with the perception of Mana that Tote understood. "I will be glad to have you with us," she announced, wondering how much of the world understood Mana still.
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Selva stumbled through the jungle that surrounded the city of Mindas, cursing Anuella under his breath for bringing him here.
The attack on the mages had perhaps been ill-fated from the start. They had underestimated the strength their foe had gained under Lonway's direction, whatever power the emperor had drawn on obliterating Selva's forces. Perhaps it was simply Mana beginning to show its teeth.
The lilipeas, his loyal companions, had scattered at his order upon that first attack. Selva, once a dragoon, was no stranger to the art of war; and immediately recognizing the odds, he had no wish for them to die there. The peaceful creatures had no chance against the magic attacks that were unleashed. They disappeared into the foliage once again, leaving Selva exposed, and alone.
The remaining human and faerie forces had been soundly trounced, leading to Selva now escaping through the jungle. He was avidly pursued by Rosiotti, Lonway's foremost archer, the crunch of brush behind him indicating his foe was altogether too close. The man was a loose cannon, and his motivations in joining the mages were unclear, but that hardly mattered at the moment. He was skilled, and determined to pursue Selva to the death.
"Anuella's not here, you can't hide behind her skirts now," Rosiotti's voice called mockingly. The archer's laughter echoed in his head as Selva broke through the trees, finding himself in the midst of the Mindas ruins.
Picking a direction at random, he ran with all the speed he could muster, sending out a thought to the cancun birds to rescue him; but on this side of the ruins, the jungle had started to take over, and the foliage was too thick for the birds to descend. He was a short man, and he knew the long-legged archer would catch up soon.
He looked around in panic, as he realized he had reached a dead end. Frantically, he looked for a way out, as the footsteps behind him came closer. Perhaps in response to his wish, a fairy flickered, one he did not recognize. It did not matter. "This way!" she motioned, and a path appeared magically through the trees.
He dove, but before the jungle overtook him, he found himself tumbling forward at the thunk of an arrow penetrating his back. Shock setting in, he reached around and pulled the arrow out of himself, rolling face up and glancing down at the hole it had torn through his chest. The pain was beginning to set in, and he knew a lung had been punctured as his breath came out in a gurgling wheeze, life trying to force its way through.
He lay there, trying to figure out if he was in fact alive or dead. He was pretty certain he was dead. The arrow has torn into his heart as well, he could feel his body giving out, and it had stopped hurting.
But somehow, awareness of the forest around persisted, hazily. He could hear Rosiotti coming closer to inspect his prize. And beyond that, he could sense a familiar presence.
The lilipeas slowly trickled out of the foliage where they had been hidden, chirping sadly. He felt his body being lifted by perhaps dozens of them, and a sense of motion as they took him to… where, he did not know.
He was going somewhere, he knew, but it was not to the Underworld quite yet.
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Anuella knew what was coming. She had felt the emotions of the lilipeas over miles of their travel, and to a lesser extent, the worries of the fairies. Their sadness seemed to permeate the jungle itself, surrounding her and filling her with dread.
But no matter how she steeled herself, her heart still dropped when the moment came.
Ricrot came up behind her, trying to comfort her, but she wrenched herself free of his arms and ran to the lilipeas, and the burden they carried. Selva, oh Selva, she thought to herself, tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn't need to touch the body of her lost love to know his body was gone… but she was surprised to find that somehow, there was a little bit of soul left.
"He can't be gone," she whispered to the air around her. "It is too soon." She touched on the wisdom-bond with Olbohn, and spoke to him through it, the returning feather-light touch telling her contact had been made.
How did he die? she asked silently.
Olbohn's response came back, as clear to her as if the Wisdom was standing right there. Rosiotti. The archer of Lonway.
She could feel herself beginning to weep at that. You must send him back to me, she thought. He has no afterlife, and that is my fault. I cannot allow him to become a ghost. I cannot bear to let him go yet.
How will you do that? Olbohn questioned.
She knew there was only one answer. I will make him a Wisdom.
A pause, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ricrot looking on questioningly. I will see to it, Olbohn replied.
And with that, she felt the last bit of Selva's soul slipping away; but she knew Olbohn would return him soon enough. Anuella straightened, rubbing tears from her eyes, and regarded the gaggle of lilipeas, their eyes all focused on her, waiting.
"You must find me Rosiotti," she told them. They chirped affirmatively, and spread out from the clearing, though she could still point directly to every last one of them. Anuella was left alone with Selva's body, and her lover standing some distance away.
She waited, impatiently, pacing the camp, until finally the news she had been waiting for arrived through that bond. Anuella straightened abruptly, and Ricrot took a step towards her, but she turned from him, and before she knew what was happening, she was herself running into the forest, heading towards the lilipea that had found her goal.
The clearing where she found him was called the Courtyard of Rain, a thick copse of trees which collected moisture to let droplets endlessly slide down to the forest floor below. Underneath those trees, a lanky young man sulked alone, the quiet drip-drops the only sound to accompany his melancholy.
Her dress and cape swished behind her as she approached, and he raised his head to greet her. "Anuella," he said conversationally, almost as if he had expected her. "I must tell you how much I regret killing another great warrior."
Anuella froze, examining the man, and reluctantly decided he was sincere. "Why?" she demanded. "Why do you follow Lonway, then, if you are so opposed to the destruction he creates?"
Rosiotti laughed, a bitter sound. "Rewards were promised. Fame, fortune, a shot at getting part of Mana. But now…" he paused, "now… I know too much of the cost."
"You have achieved wisdom," Anuella told him gently, taking a few steps in his direction. "It is never easy."
He suddenly reached up and grabbed her arms, pulling her uncomfortably close to him. His eyes met hers intently. "Selva was a lucky man," he began, "to have a woman so true to her cause. But it only makes my regrets worse."
She examined him for a long moment, he weighing her in much the same way, until she felt her decision was the right one. "There is something you can do to redeem Selva's memory," she told him, beckoning him to follow her.
He looked skeptical. "Your lilipeas said something like that to me, before you came," he admitted. "They told me to walk the same path as them."
" They are creatures of Mana, and they understand." She led him forward, lifting silver skirts to keep them from dragging on the muddy ground, to the place known as the Spring of the Beasts. From the bodice of her dress, she pulled the medallion, and felt the resonance from the spring beyond. The medallion was something ancient, something of true Mana, and Anuella had been holding onto it for some time, waiting until the time was right to use it.
Rosiotti looked suspiciously at the clear waters of the spring, brow furrowing in concentration. "Why have you brought me here?" he demanded.
She let the suspense of the moment draw out before answering. "To offer you a chance to do something more," she said softly.
He was puzzled. "After I killed your lover?"
She placed one hand on his arm, he flinching in surprise. Good, she thought, and leaned in a little closer, her lips very close to his ear. "You fail to see," she practically purred, "what this is really all about." Her other hand was entangled with the cord that had held the medallion around her neck, and she lifted it before his face, swinging it hypnotically.
She felt the Mana within it surge, and Rosiotti could clearly sense it as well, his eyes following its arc almost hungrily. "Become a Wisdom," she whispered to him. "The Wisdom of fire."
"Why fire?" he asked, suspiciously, his eyes never leaving the medallion.
Anuella swept her gaze over the jungle. "Because destruction reigns over here still, and I wish that destruction to end. Fire is both the beginning and the end, just as we are both at the beginning and the end now."
Rosiotti looked intrigued. She had him, she knew. "How?" he asked.
"The air is filled with Mana energy. All you have to do is open your heart and let it flow through you." Anuella smiled a small smile. "That is how you will know life, but you must face death as well," she told him. She had his full attention now. "Fire is one of those chaotic powers," she said, "that only the strong can face. This is how you will prove your strength."
In the distance, she felt the response to her silent, subtle summon. The creature of the spring, the creature born of the power of Pedan itself, was coming.
The beast reared out of the spring with a roar, a lion-headed chimera that was some spawn of the magic of Pedan gone haywire. Wings graced its back, and as it reared, hoofed feet could be seen.
Rosiotti regarded the thing dispassionately. "And how would you have me do that?"
"If you wish to be the lord of the beasts and remain here as the guardian of creatures, you must allow the beast to consume you." Anuella spoke in the lightest of whispers, letting her voice tickle his hearing. "Surrender to it." Her hands ran up his chest, her right hand still holding the rope from which swung the medallion.
She had him bewitched, she knew, and she slipped the medallion over his head with a caressing gesture. She stepped back, and the beast recognized the medallion. Its eyes turned to Rosiotti, glaring angrily at the archer.
For his part, Rosiotti barely glanced at the creature. "I suppose it is my price."
"I will leave you some of the lilipeas, if you agree to guard them," Anuella told him. "The rest I plan to send to a place of safety."
"Will you take your irritating fairies with you?" Rosiotti said, smiling wryly.
Anuella grinned slightly in return. "Those, I have no control over."
Rosiotti only shrugged, and headed forward to the beast that awaited him. THE medallion was the key; it would let the man merge with the form of the beast, and survive once again. She noted the irony that Lady Blackpearl had found it when she herself was seeking to be something more than she had been before.
As we all are, she thought with a shudder, watching Rosiotti disappear into the spring. Selva, she thought to herself, hoping she had made the right decision.
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Lonway was frustrated, to say the least.
The fairies and their allies were a slippery group. His charismatic younger brother had lured the bulk of the Forsenan forces to his side, leaving him little military strength. His foremost archer Rosiotti had disappeared without a trace. As for his magic powers… he had hoped to use the tower at Mindas to enter the land of the fairies, but Lucemia's destruction of the city twenty years before had severely compromised its power. The mages he led had spells, had instruments, but it was not enough against that witch Anuella.
He was ready to fight dirty.
"You called?" asked Nunuzac, approaching. The summoner was a small, nondescript man of middle age, dressed in the ancient black robes that indicated his study of necromancy, Underworld magics, and all things powerful and dangerous. Part of Anise's legacy, those skills; and Lonway had no qualms about using them.
Lonway did not meet Nunuzac's eyes, looking instead into the distance. "We are at a disadvantage, you realize," he said, reluctantly. "Our magic is strong, but the fairies and their allies are wily. I need something tougher."
Nunuzac contemplated. He was from Old Wendel, and well versed in the ancient magics, both dark and light. "A Wyrm, you wish," he said. "The dragons were the ones who truly had the power. The mages tried to imitate that power by drawing on the strength of the Underworld."
"Is that the power we need?" Lonway inquired. "The rumor was that Drakonis, the ancient Dragon Emperor, taught them himself from the Underworld."
"Perhaps he did, perhaps he didn't. We may never know," Nunuzac replied. "But they got it wrong. The Underworld once had that power, but no longer."
"So you can't do it?" Lonway demanded.
"I never said that," replied Nunuzac smoothly. "Creatures of both light and dark can be summoned, but the principle is the same. It requires a connection to the otherworld, to the other dimensions, to enter the void that separates them and come back again. It is a point in time rather than space; the Underworld was once the home for that power, but it is merely a location. The power is its own, and it is dangerous and difficult to control."
Lonway didn't understand it all, but if Nunuzac could do it, that was good enough for him. "So are you strong enough?" he demanded.
"Naturally," Nunuzac replied evenly. "Merely advising you of the risks, my Lord."
That settled the matter, as far as the Emperor was concerned, but Lonway was troubled about other things as well. "What do you think of Lasdanac returning to his homeland of Gato?" he asked. "Why would he betray us?"
"He has not betrayed us, only abandoned," Nunuzac replied. "But the reason is obvious. He must have fallen under some sort of fairies' curse. His great-grandfather Olbohn was one of our greatest allies, and I can think of no other explanation for why he would leave now."
"I suppose," Lonway pondered. "Goddess-damned fairies. So, what Wyrm will you conjure up for us?"
Nunuzac closed his eyes in a long minute of meditation, and when he reopened them, it was with a gleeful smile. "The Wyrm of Fire," he said. "Freymold is its name."
"I don't give a crap what its name is, as long as it can destroy the fairies," Lonway said. "And my brother, and that witch Anuella."
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Truthfully, Nunuzac was not as confident as he had sounded; he was gambling on the strength of his abilities to reach across the void, the powers of the moon. He had always had an affinity for the more chaotic and misunderstood elements – moon, dark, fire.
If only he had the core of a Jumi… the cores, freed from the bodies which hosted them, had tremendous power. But the Jumi seemed to have disappeared into the rocks which had spawned them.
Emperor Lonway regarded him with impatience, and Nunuzac returned his mind to the task at hand.
The first step was to clear it, to empty it of thoughts. This was the same way one touched on Mana; but now, it was not the power of Mana he was seeking.
This was… something else. The opposite of Mana, if such a thing could be said to exist. Dangerously explosive when brought into contact with proper Mana, if not properly contained, something few could do.
But he was not just anyone.
The contact resisted his efforts at first, pushing back, but he did not force it, merely remaining as he was, neither giving in nor fighting. There was a fine line between the point where one surrendered to merge with the other dimension, and the point where that other dimension consumed one whole.
The feeling of resistance faded, but Nunuzac did not press forward, letting his powers roll forward on their own. At every small step, resistance, pressure, was felt once again; but each time, it faded and slipped away, until finally, the full contact was made. Nunuzac's mind was now encased in that alternate existence, and some incomprehensible distance away, his corporeal body smiled.
He called, and he heard the answer. The Wyrm whose energy he had touched raced towards him, through him, using him as a conduit for its escape. Nunuzac clung to that raging force, allowing the Wyrm to spiral through his very soul to the dimension of the humans.
Despite his grip, part of Nunuzac's soul was pulled along with Freymold, back to the world in which he began, yet still linked to the beyond. Ordinary vision returned, and Nunuzac noted distantly the enormous beast hovering in the air above Mindas, greedily attracted by the power of that ancient city. Flames flickered off its body as Nunuzac struggled to hold on to his summoning.
The fires feeding off Freymold licked the air, heat radiating all around them, and the Wyrm shrieked, struggling to escape its bonds. Nunuzac held on for all his worth, but the creature dove with snapping jaws, grabbing at the unseen Mana quivering around them.
And suddenly, it… snatched… some of that power. How, Nunuzac never knew, but Freymold hurled its bundle of captured Mana back at its enslaver, sending it tearing along the bond, the implosion of Mana and anti-Mana ripping apart the connection to free the Wyrm. It screamed with an ear-piercing frequency, and dove for the two men who had brought it into this world.
Freymold's fiery breath incinerated Lonway immediately, but before Nunuzac could protect himself, he felt the backlash of the reaction spring back into his soul. He was thrown backwards along the bond, back towards the void from which he had called the creature, and he felt himself falling…
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Rosiotti looked up from where he had been reclining on his forest throne, his bestial head leaning on his paws. His new form surprised him still, but he had found it… surprisingly easy to accommodate.
It had, indeed, heightened his sense of Mana, and the disturbance he felt now was like nothing he had sensed before.
The lilipeas around him squealed in agitation, their sensitivity even more exquisite than his own. His head snapped up, just in time to see the sky darken, only to be filled with the light of fire once again.
Nunuzac, he thought. That damn Lonway is using his powers at last.
The Wyrm circled above, captivated by the Mana that permeated the forest. His forest, the forest that was his responsibility, as were the creatures in it. He motioned the lilipeas to scatter, and obediently, they tore in all directions.
He waited until he felt they were at a safe distance, and then Rosiotti reared up, and roared.
The Wyrm paused in midair as the sound echoed through the forest, turning its enormous head to regard the creature that dared defy him. It opened its gaping maw, spewing fire before it.
The trees torched instantly; there was nothing that could be done for that, as Freymold rained destruction on the forest. Rosiotti himself was protected in his current form, and stood there, unharmed, the enormous creature looking… perplexed, if such a thing was possible.
"Destroy my forest, will you?" the Wisdom roared. "Fire is my element now! Let's see what power you have against Mana!"
Rosiotti tore through the jungle with his loping lion's strides, hearing the Wyrm shriek as it raced to follow him. Silently, he sent a thought to the beasts of the forest to flee, and he felt them obey, running from the path he was carving out. He crashed through the trees only moments before Freymold turned them into burnt remnants, heading towards his destination single-mindedly.
Before him, he could see the trees opening up, and beyond, the Spring of the Beasts. The spring where his new life had been born. The pool of water had once been the center of the city of Pedan, and he felt the power as he approached, increasingly exponentially with every stride.
The Wyrm was closing in on him now, and Rosiotti splashed into the water without hesitation.
The warm water surrounded him, but wrapped in with it was the warmer feeling of Mana, surrounding him like the softest of blankets. He swam out to the center, paddling with his four paws, to the point where the feeling became so intense, so painfully sweet, that he could hardly bear it.
Freymold paused at the edge of the spring, the Mana repelling it, the Wyrm crying out in frustration. Its serpentine body traveled over the burnt wreckage it had created, circling the lake but unable to advance.
"That's right," Rosiotti shouted, poking his sodden mane from the water. "You will come no further! Find yourself another target!"
Whether it understood or not, the Wyrm spiraled upwards into midair, and Rosiotti gave a silent thanks to Anuella for the gifts she had granted him. Freymold stretched out its gargantuan body once again, and flew off to the northwest. Towards Gato.
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Selva was safe. He had gone on to his new life as the Wisdom of Wind, and that, at least, calmed Anuella.
But plenty of suffering remained, ghosts of the past and present haunting her still. Cries of fear, cries of pain, penetrated her dreams every night. Anuella tossed in her room at the Temple of Gato, waking hazily to realize some of those cries were real, pulling her out of her bed in the Temple of Gato.
"What is it?" Ricrot called behind her, sleepily, but her attention was already elsewhere.
The early morning light greeted her as she stumbled out to the windy terraces of the Holy City, but off in the distance was a different sort of light. The panicked citizenry perhaps did not know what it was, but she did, all too well.
"The Wyrm," she gasped. "They really did…" She could feel its power even at this great distance. It was nothing like Geimaswald, a creature nothing more than a nuisance, it only partly drawn into this world. Freymold was fully here, with all the power of the otherworld inside it.
A movement caught her eye, and she turned to see Lasdanac Liotte emerging from the temple, one arm wrapped around its young priestess, both in a state of rather suggestive undress. Amalette Holloway had been the reason she had come to Gato, to lend her support to the young woman descended from Carlie herself, the first to take over the Temple of Healing since Carlie's death only a handful of years before. The Goddess' s blessing that Carlie did not live to see this, thought Anuella randomly. The influence of the line was strong, however, and Anuella intended it to stay that way.
Lasdanac had been her childhood sweetheart, and was now her adult lover. He had abandoned the forces of the mages to return home to help her. Together, they would lead Gato into a new age.
If they all survived this day.
Ricrot appeared beside her, one arm wrapped around her in a mirror image of the other couple, but Anuella could only shiver in anticipation as the Wyrm bore down on the city full force. The nekos of Gato, the family that was Amalette's personal protectors, surrounded her, but there was little they could do to protect their liege woman from this monstrosity.
"It's… it's too strong," Anuella cried, anguished. "I cannot do anything that would hurt this one."
Lasdanac placed one hand on her shoulder, startling her. "Let me," he told her confidently.
"What can you do?" she asked, trying not to let the doubt creep in her voice.
"I returned home to become one of the warrior monks," he told her, smiling gently. "This will be the home of the Goddess. If She can give us any power, she will do so now."
Anuella had her doubts, but she watched in fascination as Lasdanac stepped forward, building the spell. It was a spell of pure Mana, a spell of more power than she had ever been able to create herself. A spell of truth.
She turned to see Amalette, her gazed entrained on her lover, a tall slender thing with curling auburn hair that blew in the winds. One hand lay protectively on her belly, and suddenly all was clear. That's it, Anuella thought. He has love to draw on, love and life yet to be, the purest form of Mana. She wished she had even once truly experienced the emotion.
Freymold swept over the city, neglecting the buildings to focus on the insect daring to confront it. It filled the sky above them as it glared down at Lasdanac, who stood his ground without a hint of fear.
Its fiery jaws opened, and the Wyrm spewed a wave of scorching breath, and in the same instant, Lasdanac released the Mana he had built. Invisible, but the results were not. Anuella felt the collision, the enormous volume of the power of the Goddess colliding with the demon spawn, Mana whipping its tendrils around the creature. Freymold screamed as motes of light appeared all over its body, boring holes into the creature's shell, dissolving it before their very eyes.
Pieces of the Wyrm fell way, enormous chunks hurtling toward the ground below, and Ricrot instinctively wrapped his arms around Anuella, pulling her down to the ground. She could have told him there was no need; the remnants splintered and disappeared before ever nearing them, motes of reddish light the last visible sign of the creature's existence.
How long they had stood there, she could not say, but the sun was well over the horizon when she stood, the skies over Gato clear and empty once again.
"That was the end," she said, quietly. "They will not be able to recover from this." Impulsively, she fell to her knees before the man. "I defer to you, sir."
He reached down, pulling her to back to her feet. Ricrot only stroked his beard thoughtfully, his expression a bit… calculating. "I could use a man like you on my side. How did you do that?"
"The fairies," Lasdanac replied. "The fairies who guard Gato taught me."
Amalette stepped in. "The fairies helped him perfect it, but he's always been able to do that. I myself, I can link to the Goddess, like my great-grandmother, but I don't the powers he does." She raised her eyes to his adoringly. "I am hoping our daughter will inherit that power as well."
"We don't know - " Lasdanac began, but she interrupted. "I do. Twins, a boy and a girl. He will have your name and become a knight. She will have mine and follow me as the priestess of Gato."
Anuella studied the two, and hoped.
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The end had been a bitter victory.
Anuella had watched as the mages were brutally pushed back, not so much from their lack of power – they had plenty of dark power, she knew – but from their inability to consolidate it, to control it. It had been their undoing, just as for her mother.
The fairies had won, in a way, and for a while Mana was understood and used in its pure form once again. But after all the wars, the fairies hated humans, the humans hated fairies, and though the fairies had fought to protect the Goddess, they themselves were no closer to Her than before.
Ricrot had accepted the mages' surrender with Anuella at his side. The ceremony took place at the University of Pedan, the repository of knowledge of Mana that was now housed in a desert oasis where it had moved early in the wars.
Ricrot had gracefully accepted the mages back into the fold, and he was crowned Emperor. The first ruler of Forsena formally known as Emperor, not King, and Anuella couldn't help but wonder where that might lead.
Over a hundred years of wars had ensued since her mother had sought the Tree, and now she wondered who, in fact, had really won. Perhaps it had been Anise after all. She had thought for so long her side was right, but now it seemed that no matter the side one chose, humankind had become afraid to desire, to hope, to dream, wary of might come of it, that it may all turn to ashes in the end, like Mana itself. Perhaps the only true peace of one's soul was not to desire anything.
But they would do their part to preserve what could be saved, she and Ricrot. They had founded the city of Geo around the ancient University, a city devoted to magic. Perhaps it would help replace some of what had been destroyed.
It had been ten years since the wars had ended, ten years in which they had built the city up, developing the new Academy of Magic from the smaller university that preceded it. Slowly, scholars came, united by their common desire to preserve Mana, to ensure the world never had to experience the Mana wars again.
She entered the marble and sandstone hallways that were to be the new academy of magic, and drew her breath. There, in the center, was a sand rose, a duplicate of a rose supposed to be in the Sanctuary of Mana itself, but sculpted from the desert sands and crystallized by magic. A gift from Ricrot to her.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Nunuzac's voice came from behind her.
She wheeled, to see the pane of glass that was now Nunuzac's only communication with the dimension of the mortals. He was a danger no longer, but his knowledge was vast, and Ricrot saw the wisdom of allowing him to join the Academy of Geo.
"It has power…" Nunuzac floated, the floating glass wiggling towards the rose Anuella was adoring. "Like Jumi cores."
Anuella felt a chill at that. "Cores?"
"Concentrated power," he responded.
Anuella grew wary. "You're not looking for Jumi cores, are you?" Nunuzac's glass pane could not show expression, of course, but before he could respond, Ricrot strode in, clad in full regalia.
"Anuella," he greeted her warmly. "You are just in time to see the other surprise I have for you." The young king pulled back a cloth that covered an enormous painting mounted on the wall.
It was of her mother.
"What are you thinking, Ricrot?" Anuella gasped. She felt a chill, and grasped the railing at her side to steady herself. Her ghost will always follow me, she thought to herself, as if the painting itself could somehow summon Anise's spirit.
"Your mother was a great mage. She should be revered. Without her, magic would not be where it is today," Ricrot announced with a hint of admiration.
"She destroyed half the world," Anuella intoned breathlessly, staring at the enormous visage of Anise above her. "I've spent my whole life fighting against what she started." Ricrot seemed not to hear, gazing around at the main hall of the academy he had created, an academy to nurture the mages who had once tried to destroy everything the Goddess had wanted.
Her heart sank, as she realized something she had been trying to hide from herself all this time. Ricrot was… not on her side. He was on the side of himself, and whatever was most beneficial to him and the empire he craved. She had been a part of that, for a while… but that was all she was.
She didn't think she would ever be able to look at him the same way again.
Time passed, and Anuella found herself unwilling to resist, unable to leave, the motivation that had once driven her now drained away into near-indifference. Her worst fears were proven right as Ricrot's city of Geo began to take form. It was a city of magic, not the Goddess.
The male monks of Gato were forced to come to the new city to become mages, and it was only the efforts of Amalette that kept the female nuns from the same fate. The priestess saw the influence of her prestigious family diminishing, having little influence outside of Gato itself. Her daughter remained with her to grow up in Gato, and her son Julio came with his father to Geo, the father taking up service with the emperor, the son training to follow in his father's footsteps.
Nunuzac avoided her studiously once rumors appeared of Jumi cores for sale in the city. Anuella investigated, but was never able to pin the rumors down, and she hoped fervently that the gossip was just that.
She rarely saw Ricrot. It had been years since she had harbored any sort of feelings for him. Eventually, she began glimpsing him in dark corners with a young woman, a pretty, vapid, sort of thing, a hint of jealousy surfaced beside herself. She studied herself in the mirror; despite her lengthened life, the marks of age were creeping in, decades later than they might have otherwise, but there they were, worry and care taking their toll.
Ricrot became ever more fanatical, claiming to know the will of the Goddess herself, insisting that he was the one who spoke Her words. The Goddess was not to be fully known, thought Anuella, only gently understood and loved by all. He built churches to his beliefs, creating his own books of divine guidance, and soon only Gato stood to truly represent the old religion. Anuella wanted to cry, to tear out her hair.
The final straw came with the reports that Ricrot was brutally slaughtering the fairies, as well as the survivors of Lonway, and Anuella knew that it was time to confront him.
Out the window, she saw Lasdanac Liotte, training the knights beneath him in the yard. His role was to train the next generation in ancient Forcena's code of chivalry, to create a new group of holy knights, and Anuella couldn't help but note the element of hypocrisy, as Ricrot sowed destruction all around.
Remembering how Lasdanac had once confronted the Wyrm with the powers of truth, Anuella found strength within herself as she strode towards Ricrot's throne room with a determination she had not felt in years. She threw the doors open with a gratifying slam, and marched purposefully towards the man she once thought she loved.
The emperor was only meeting with a couple of his advisors, and looking up, sensing her mood, he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Anuella froze, suddenly unsure what she wanted to say.
The two looked at each other for a long time. Once lovers, now strangers.
"What are you doing?" she finally asked him softly. He understood her meaning, stepping down from the dais to look at her face-to-face.
"Making the future," he told her calmly. Like every Forcenan, choosing practically, she thought to herself. "Look around, Anuella. I named Geo for the Jumi, as you know, to find that level of power, since they are gone…"
"Except for their cores for sale in the city?" she challenged him.
His face hardened. "I wouldn't know about that."
"Well, you should," Anuella said harshly, the words suddenly coming out in a torrent. "You should know everything that is going on, every reason why. The Jumi were meant for love, for the Goddess, not for the power you jealously crave. How do you justify training knights to kill, but calling them 'holy'? What is the meaning of your fervent campaign against 'heretics'? How do you suppose you are the religious leader, while forgetting everything that matters? Have you forgotten everything we fought for? Have you forgotten the Goddess?"
He had, she realized, watching the expression on his face. He cared for nothing other than his own beliefs, his own ambitions, and nothing she could say would change that.
Anuella wondered how long it would be before he discredited her own memory.
He advanced towards her, and she found herself shrinking back in repulsion, her skin crawling as he wrapped his arms around her.
"The ultimate power, Anuella," he whispered. "The ultimate weapon. Power to eclipse the Goddess herself. What more could we want?"
She felt suddenly chilled, caressed with ghostly fingers that had not bothered her for nearly a century, but there they were, her mother's touch, her mother's logic, her mother's words…
Anuella tore herself from his grasp, wondering if she was in the grip of madness. A voice called after her, but it was distant, outside her; all she could think of was her fear, her pain, her hate. The desperate need to flee controlled her and she ran, knowing not what she was going towards, only what she was running from.
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Vadise fondled the green cane delicately, and the lilipeas chirped around her.
It was the gift Anuella had promised her so long ago. The artifact drew Mana from the earth, and her forest blossomed once again, to guard the Tree Stone, still peacefully growing. The lilipeas had brought it to her, chirping with agitation at the fate of their mistress, and the dragon had taken the creatures under her wing. So to speak.
She looked at the newly-vibrant forest around her. "It is all for Anuella's memory," she whispered.
Jajara did not hear her. "Why have you summoned me here, Vadise?" inquired the other dragon, looking ever the worse for wear. Grayish, sunken skin now bore holes in places, showing white bone underneath, in places bloodied by tendons still attached.
"To give you news. Anuella will not continue as wisdom past her death," Vadise told him, and Jajara started.
"She will give up so easily?" the bone dragon asked. "Death is not such a great barrier."
"It is not so simple," she replied. "Selva was one matter, but she is beyond what Olbohn, or even you, can save. She has extended her life too long, and Mana will give her nothing more." Vadise lowered her head sadly. "We will have only the ghost of her memory."
Jajara snorted, dead air spurting from bony nostrils, he himself only a ghost of what he once had been. "It was the Empire that crushed her spirit," he said. "They overstep themselves, and break those things which must be preserved. They are the nemesis of ourselves, and the Goddess," he finished defiantly.
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The place felt like home.
Granted, it was nothing but a junkyard, but it was a trash dump full of her own creations – things she had crafted from Mana for Ricrot, for the faeries, for the dragons; things she had made herself, things she had taught others to make, inspired others to make.
She wandered the wreckage, feeling the spell solidify behind her. Its faint residue followed her; she knew what she meant to do by it. The spell would lock her in, and keep others out, until she was finally released from life.
The artifacts, the dolls, the instruments… the things… seemed to whisper to her, knowing her as one of their own. She was just as much a thing as any of it, and their whispered accusations trickled to her ear as she traversed the abandoned plain, itself as much a ruin as her ancient country of Altena had been.
Their anger pressed on her guilt, and she indulged those feelings of pain, of shame. Her arms crossed in front of her, she dug her fingernails into her flesh until blood dropped onto the snow beneath her feet. But the words stung her in a way that transcended the merely physical. Deep down, she knew her sanity was by now questionable; but really, had she ever hoped for better? She knew she would finish her miserable life here.
Anuella neither ate nor drank, never slept, only walked, until finally her strength gave out. Exhausted, she tumbled to the ground, her legs refusing to carry her further, and she curled up into a ball, memories and imagination blending into a delusional tableau.
She lost track of how long she lay there, only knowing it had been some time when she felt a disruption to the Mana in the air, and a presence that spoke of familiarity. She opened her eyes and lifted her head weakly, to find one of the discarded dolls gliding towards her. A doll she remembered all too well, a doll with eyes that burned red with ungoddessly power.
"Wisdom," Magnolia cackled. "So you find yourself with us here, now, after all this time."
Anuella instinctively reached to push the thing away, but it advanced inexorably. It drew near to look at her with its scorching eyes. "No," she cried in fear. "No, you are not mine, those eyes are my mother's. You are my nemesis!"
"No," the doll scolded. "You are the one that wanted to create me. You are the one who wanted, who desired, who led us all to destruction. You are the Artificer."
"I only wanted…" Anuella pleaded, unsure what it was she wanted.
"You don't know?" Magnolia asked. "Then, what was it all for?"
Anuella did not know, and maybe she never had. She curled up into the fetal position once again, her breaths heavy and labored. Her lost guilt rushed back to her, enveloping her as easily as it constricted her, the ghosts of past, present, and possibly future coming to haunt her.
The doll's eyes flared as she floated closer.